I found this on the internet, it is not mine, please do not reproduce, sell, or use in any way except as a starter prompt for your writing. I am not sure who the artist is, but I think it is boris olshansky. If the artist objects, I will remove the image.

God bless and have fun with this._________________Be patient with me. Like any good story, I'm a work in progress.

Hi everyone! I'm very excited to see the 500 club active again. Yay! Here's my offering for this prompt. Hot off the keyboard and a little rough, but it feels good to be writing again. Thanks for taking a look.

Rohlan stopped to catch his breath. “Stupid,” he muttered. “Stupid to wander off in an unfamiliar place. With all the trees everything looks the same.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it wasn’t unfamiliar when I started.” His eyes swept over the woods. “And where are the others? I don’t remember getting separated.” He took a swig from his water bottle. “They should miss me soon. If I stay put I’ll be easier to find, hopefully before nightfall.”

Movement at the edge of his peripheral vision caught his attention. He stumbled forward. “Cameron? Kat? Wait!”

The figure vanished.

“Great, now I’m seeing things.” Rohan rubbed his eyes. “But I could have sworn…”

The woods opened into a clearing filled with standing stones. He skidded to a stop. “What the….?”

“It is the will of the council that you prove yourself.”

Rohlan stared at the strange old man seated on the stone formation. Almost like it’s some sort of throne. And what’s with the costume? “What council? No one’s here but us. Look, why don’t you tell me where you live and I’ll take you home.” Once I figure out where I am and how I got here. “I’m sure somebody’s missing you.”

“Silence! If you speak, you cannot hear and if you do not hear, you cannot listen, nor can you understand.” The old man’s expression softened. “I am not in need of help…at least not the help you are offering. We are, however in need of a different type of assistance.”

“We?” Something resembling moonbeams settled on three large stones and flooded the space behind him. Forms appeared and took shape. Human shape. Rohlan shuddered. “Where did they..?”

“These are the council,” the old man said. “And we have chosen you. Therefore, you must prove yourself.”

Rohlan inched toward the edge of the clearing. They couldn’t be real. It was hunger, or thirst, or some bad trail mix. One “hallucination” blocked his path and shoved him forward. Rohlan grimaced. So much for that theory. “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

“He is undisciplined and untrained, Sire” the man behind him said. “How can he succeed where his betters failed?”

Sire?

The old man leaned forward. “Perhaps the untrained and undisciplined is what is needed, since the others did indeed fail.”

“Failed at what?” Rohlan asked. “What do you want?”

A grim smile flitted across the king’s face. “You must save mankind.”

“What?” Rohlan’s stomach knotted. “You’re crazy.”

“Not so.” The old man pointed at Rohlan. “The council has spoken. The sword has chosen you. You must prove yourself worthy.”

What Sword? Rohlan’s hand dropped to his side. His fingers curled around the hilt of a weapon and pulled the sword free. “Where...?”

The old man stood. “You ask too many questions. You have been chosen. You must proceed.”

_________________Be patient with me. Like any good story, I'm a work in progress.